Headshot
by Morgana Maeve
Summary: -Axel.Xigbar.Violence- Neither wants to be there, especially together, but this is what they get.


Headshot

Morgana Maeve

8/2/08 – Axel/Xigbar. Somebody make it stop.

Warnings: The sniper and the flamer. Epic cartoon death. (Liar) I can't take this much longer.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Square and Disney.

.:oOo:.

There is a clan of Nobodies lost within the depths of dank dungeons in the dark tower of Radiant Garden. There are quite a few of them, cowering there in the stinking mud, wild-eyed and foaming, terrified of the jangling chains their shadows stir. Heartless run amok here, wriggling mass of blackness that creeps across the floors, caressing ankles and touching wrists, thin hands that rake across cheeks and through hair.

Outside and across a barren field of dying earth and stinking puddles there is a man with one wing standing on a cliff-side. His face is upturned to the cloudy sky, long sword hanging at his waist, bobbing in the cool breeze. Flowing silver hair slides silkily down his back, inviting a lesser-informed person to touch. But if she does, rest assured it will be last thing she will ever do.

Sephiroth's posture invokes certain unwariness, a relaxation, a daydream that is perhaps so pleasant he does not want to leave it. But beneath the apparent leisureliness, his senses are working in overdrive – eyes, nose, ears all finely attuned to the happenings around him. And that is why, when the wind suddenly picks up and swirls into a noisy whirlpool behind him, he does nothing. He remains the rigid, inflexible statue that he has been for the last eight hours.

Two figures step out of the whirlpool, both dressed in black, hoods pulled tightly over their heads. Assassins, he knows, for the screams that echo up from the ground and waft like beautiful music throughout the rifts. They are silent, save for the crunch of their boots on gravel, and he waits…waits…waits.

Click of a trigger, and Sephiroth pivots on the balls of his feet, sword shrieking from its sheath. Metallic clang, and the bullet ricochets off into the gorge, pinging as it strikes rocks and tower, burying itself in the bulbous mass of an unlucky Heartless.

The movement was slow for him, bordering on near lazziness, but the whole attack couldn't have taken more than a few seconds. As his coat settles, slit flaps billowing out around his sleek frame, he sees the one who shot at him, gun still up, face lost in darkness. The other stands further back, arms crossed around its sullen chest.

They both straighten at the same time, and Sephiroth lets his sword hang loose in his hand, sizing up his opponent. The gun-wielder is strong, and so it the one who hasn't moved, but they are no match for him. No one truly is. Perhaps, at another time, this distraction might have been fun, a nice little digression perfect for his health and his sword, but for right now, he doesn't have the time.

And so, while the gunslinger pulls the trigger with infinite ease, Sephiroth rises up and disappears into himself. The little blonde puppet is struggling closer, calling out to him in forced forgetting, and Sephiroth wants to be there when he realizes he can never escape.

Back on the ground, Xigbar dismisses his weapons with a careless flick of his wrists, rolling his remaining eye towards Axel and motioning him forward with an impatient wave. Axel, impertinent as ever, waits just long enough to annoy before he joins his partner where Sephiroth had stood.

Together, though neither wants to be with the other, they look out at the dark tower, feeling the teeming Heartless within, sensing the distraught Nobodies hiding in fear. They don't talk, but an uncanny conversation passes between them, hooded heads silent and unmoving. And then, without warning, they both jump in perfected harmony.

They hit the ground running, and the Heartless swarm out of windows and cracks, Shadows bursting in explosions of black mist as Xigbar's never-failing rounds find their targets, Neoshadows shriveling up in despair as Axel's fire parches their liquid bodies.

The battle rages on, and inside, beneath the rank ground, beneath rotted timber, the Nobodies wonder if it's salvation at their door or if it's the devil tromping through to take his toll.

They will soon find out.

There are too many Heartless, as Axel and Xigbar knew there would, and they don't bother trying to kill all of them. They clear a path to the door, mud sucking at their boots, legs dirty up to their knees, and then Axel breaks down the door, soggy wood covered in lichen and streaked with slippery algae. The Heartless pour in behind them, solid wall of mutating black, millions of yellow eyes watching the figures plunge into a darkness not even moonless night can match.

This place is tainted, tainted by too much death and suffering, and it will never be the same again. Even the weather here is dismal: steely gray sky swirling in roiling waves above the tower's peak, clouds jostling each other for the coveted position just above the pointed roof. Evil has bred evil in this tower, and more evil has come, in the form of two figures in cloaks, faces hidden in something that is more than mere shadow.

The floors are rotted through, worms eating tunnels through the green carpet of moss, and grime drips down the walls, staining stone with the color of rusty blood. All it takes is just one furious stomp, and there go Axel and Xigbar, falling, falling, falling down, protecting their faces with their arms, feet pounding through floor after floor until finally, they reach solid dirt, packed by dozens of bare feet wearing circles into the ground.

At first, the only sound is falling beams, cracking to the ground in spongy splinters. Then the mutters follow, naked bodies pressing together, arms pushing and shoving, mouths whispering, eye watching the two unmoving figures that have so unalterably invaded their world.

But they are not truly invaders, for the kinship between Nobodies is strong, and those terrified, lost, unsettled drifting bits of remnants all know they are in the presence of their own kind.

One steps forward, hands outreached, begging for mercy, love, emotion, anything that can be given selflessly and taken selfishly. He trips and falls, unseen beam catching his foot, and he crawls forward, dragging his body through the mud, grabbing at the closest black hemline.

The bullet enters between his eyes and out his skull, whistling angrily into the stone wall behind him. One last croak before he falls, body fading away in dusty sighs, and the skies rip open in weeping torment, icy tears battering dead shingles as Sephiroth returns, feet touching slippery rock with false gentleness. His lone wing wraps around his body, keeping the wet from finding him.

The screams begin in earnest then, as well the gunshots, Xigbar laughing as he shoots them down one by one. The screamers go first, cruel bullets tearing through throats and lips, twinges of pain their last memory of a life better left forgotten.

And soon, there is only one left, faint metal scent of old blood rising up from the floor, dusty black covering all in that dungeon of hell. The other black figure steps forward, thin hips swaying as it walks, deadly grace only bestowed upon the dangerous. A water droplet is suspended on a beam, reluctant to let go of its sisters and fall away.

Underneath the hood is the maniacal gleam of a feral grin. One thin arm rises up, thumb and middle finger lightly touching beneath black glove.

The water droplet goes plop in a puddle as flames reflect in terrible glory, consuming dust and ash and boards in one fell roar. Sephiroth watches the smoke seep from the ground, carrying dozens of murdered screams to the sobbing heavens.

The Superior is pleased when he receives his report, wicked smile distorted on the marble floors.

.:oOo:.

Dark. Dark, dark, dark. I have a dark mind.

Anyway, I love how nobody loves Xemnas/Axel. I swear, I don't think I've ever seen any fanart for that. Wait…no, never mind. I haven't. Maybe I have. I don't know. (I'm so lame.)

I also love how I cannot force myself to make any of these a lemon. I just can't. I'll explode in a fiery death if I do. The smex is coming soon, though. (Not really. First smex will probably come on the ninth, if I haven't killed myself over the fifth before that.)

Please read and review!


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